Junior

It's been hard to know what to make of Junior. A short, slight, Englishman, with several front teeth missing and a perpetual swagger in his walk, he started coming into The Lord's Rain about a year ago. The most common themes in his conversation have been (a) that he was subject to arrest and deportation, even though he'd lived in Canada since the 60s, and (b) that he used to run with the Hell's Angels in Quebec and the Maritimes.


His big talk has always made me wonder. How much of it is real, how much is bravado and how much is just plain delusional? The wondering reached a peak a couple of months ago, when I casually asked him how he got his nickname "Junior". He went into a long story about being born in India when his father was in his 60s and had married (I think) a young Indian woman, but then was raised by older sisters back in England ... kicked out of various schools and then sent off to Canada, (and possibly not as a remittance man) ... and that's when he fell in with the bikers. "Junior" was what his dad called him, to the point that no one in his family knew who they were talking about when they used his right name.


The more I listened, the more I realized that the story was wild, crazy, out of left field, totally unbelieveable ... and there just might be something to it!


I hadn't seen Junior in a while, until he came into The Lord's Rain this past Tuesday. He had a coffee and sat down. Then another fellow came in, who I'd never seen before: he asked if the coffee was free (yes), then sat down and talked to Junior.


"Charlie East."
"Huh?"
"Charlie East."
"Dunno what you're talkin' about," said Junior.
"That's where I know you from."
"I never seen you before."
"We were in the same cell block."
"I been inside since."


To translate: the new guy was trying to convince Junior that they knew each other from doing time together in chokey. Junior seemed nonplussed. Finally, the new guy said, ever so casually, "come on outside, I want to talk to you."


"I'm not going outside with you."


You don't need to be Mario Puzo to get an idea of what was coming. Junior refused to go outside, and the new fellow was quite insistent. I was distracted by something else, and then I realized Junior had, incredibly, stepped outside with the guy. Danilo went out after them about 30 seconds later, but it was about 10 seconds too late. Danilo hollered for me, and when I got there, Junior was sitting in the alley, his back against the wall, face bloody and looking dazed. The other guy was haring off down the street. It had been, apparently, a two punch discussion.


Junior said "yes" when I asked if he wanted me to call 911, which surprised me: often, victims in what was apparently a "targeted hit" (to use the term the media love to jump on) are in no mood to cooperate with police, but Junior probably figured that was a safer proposition than hanging about in the area.


But I can't say much for the street-wiseness of the attacker. Rather than take off in the general direction of away, he wound up in the alley across the street from The Lord's Rain, in full view of our picture window, presenting an excellent opportunity for me to describe him to the police. Unfortunately, police arrived about a minute after he disappeared down the alley and out the far side.


A couple of cops arrived and walked Junior out to the ambulance, which wasn't able to get right to the Mission on account of that work still going on on Carrall Street.

I found out on Wednesday night that the story had flashed around the DTES and had made its way up to the Food Bank, except that it had morphed into a fight inside The Lord's Rain. Alas, trying to shut down a rumour like that on the Alley Telegraph is like trying to put toothpaste back in the tube.

Once again, The Lord's Rain is in the right place at the right time. Supposing that goon had caught up with Junior and there wasn't a place open where there were witnesses and a phone to call 911? It's not the first time we've provided a place for someone to come in and get help at a time when most places are closed, and it won't be the last.